Some of us have been told what we want our whole lives. We've

The gentle teacher and storyteller Bob Goff, a man whose wisdom is rooted in love and authenticity, once wrote: “Some of us have been told what we want our whole lives. We’ve been told we should want to go out for sports or not. We should want a college education or a graduate degree or a particular career. We should want to date this person and not the other.” In these tender yet powerful words, Goff uncovers one of the deepest wounds of the human spirit—the loss of our own desire. His words are not a condemnation of guidance or ambition, but a reminder that too many live not from the heart, but from the expectations of others. He speaks to a truth as old as humanity itself: that the first and greatest act of freedom is to remember what it is we truly want, apart from the voices that have told us who to be.

From our first breath, the world begins to shape us. Parents, teachers, and societies, often with love and good intention, tell us what paths to follow, what dreams to chase, what kind of success to seek. But over time, those voices can drown out our own. Goff, a man of faith and imagination, saw that modern life too easily confuses obedience with purpose. He understood that many people reach adulthood carrying dreams that are not theirs—chasing approval instead of passion, comfort instead of calling. His quote is a call to awaken, to peel back the layers of expectation and rediscover the voice within—the voice that whispers, “This is who I am.”

To live under the weight of others’ expectations is to live in a shadow. It is to mistake the image of life for life itself. Goff’s words echo the ancient wisdom of the philosophers who taught that true happiness, or eudaimonia, comes not from pleasing the crowd, but from aligning one’s soul with one’s true nature. Socrates, who drank the hemlock rather than betray his own conscience, knew this truth well. He was told to stop questioning, to stop stirring the minds of youth, to conform to the accepted beliefs of his time. Yet he chose to follow his inner conviction rather than the dictates of authority. In doing so, he proved that integrity—the courage to live by one’s own truth—is the highest form of education.

Goff’s reflection is especially piercing in a world that praises achievement above authenticity. From early years, children are measured by scores, ranked by comparison, and molded into shapes that fit society’s narrow definitions of success. A young artist is told that art is impractical. A dreamer is told to be realistic. A heart yearning for service is told to seek profit instead. And slowly, quietly, their fire fades. They live lives of quiet resignation, achieving much, but becoming little of what they truly are. It is this tragedy that Goff seeks to heal—to remind us that the purpose of life is not to perform, but to become.

Consider the story of Vincent van Gogh, a soul who refused to let the world define him. Pressured by family and society, he first tried to serve as a preacher, then as a missionary. Yet something deeper called him—something that neither approval nor conformity could satisfy. Against all counsel, he turned to painting, though he sold almost nothing in his lifetime. The world called him mad; yet through his art, he gave humanity some of its most transcendent beauty. Van Gogh’s life is a mirror to Goff’s words: the proof that to follow one’s true desire, though it costs everything, is to live authentically—and that authenticity, not acceptance, is the mark of greatness.

In his wisdom, Bob Goff does not condemn the love or advice of others—he honors it—but he reminds us that the sacred task of the soul is to discern which voices lead us closer to truth and which lead us away from it. Education, career, and relationships are not wrong in themselves; they only become prisons when they are pursued for the sake of pleasing others. The journey, he suggests, is not to reject what we’ve been told, but to rediscover what we were meant to desire before the world told us who to be. The truest education begins when we unlearn the lies of conformity and return to the questions that burn within our own hearts.

The lesson, then, is both liberating and demanding: Live your own story. Listen to the voice within that speaks softly but persistently—the one that tells you what is right, what is beautiful, what is worth your life. It may lead you down paths that others do not understand, but it will lead you to peace. Dare to choose the career that stirs your soul rather than the one that earns applause. Seek relationships that nourish your heart rather than those that please your image. Let education be not the memorization of others’ ideas, but the discovery of your own truth. For when you live as you were created to live, you not only find your joy—you give others permission to find theirs.

So let Bob Goff’s words echo across generations as both warning and invitation: “Some of us have been told what we want our whole lives.” Do not remain among them. Strip away the layers of expectation, the fear of disapproval, and the hunger for validation. Walk boldly into the wilderness of your own heart, and listen. There, in the silence, you will find what you were meant to seek all along—not what you were told to desire, but what your soul was born to love. And in that discovery lies the highest education, the truest freedom, and the beginning of a life fully, gloriously your own.